


The Tour

by Squid Squad (TerminalMiraculosis)



Series: Operation 24 [5]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Agent 24, Established Relationship, F/F, Humor, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-04-11 20:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19117543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerminalMiraculosis/pseuds/Squid%20Squad
Summary: When Off the Hook goes on tour, Eight temporarily moves in with Three.Three only owns one bed.How tragic.---Mature for sexual reference, discussion, and implication; there are no sexually explicit scenes or graphic descriptions.





	1. And They Were Roommates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! You thought this series was over? So did I. But I'm back now, because I've got way too many ideas for these dumb cephalopods!
> 
> After a much-needed reprieve, I am back to writing gay squids! I'll be updating weekly like before, and I'll probably take a week's break after each full story is completed. But, man, am I excited to get back into things! I've got, like, three stories planned out, and some half-baked ideas beyond that. So stay tuned, folks.
> 
> Also, I've got a tumblr for this series now?? Come visit to ask me questions about this series/whatever you want, or just to chill out and look at agent 24 stuff. Catch me at [operation-24.tumblr.com](https://operation-24.tumblr.com)!

“Helloooooo Inkopolis!” Callie called, throwing her hands up and staring into the camera. “Surprise, it’s us, the Squid Sisters! Welcome to Inkopolis News!”

Three paused outside of Sheldon’s store, having just gotten her equipment touched up, and stared up at the screen. What the fuck did those two think they were doing?

“It feels like it’s been forever since we were last sitting here,” Marie said from behind Marina’s turntable. “Time really does fly after you quit your dayjob.”

“We can hear your questions loud and clear, Inkopolis,” Callie said. “Why are the Squid Sisters hosting the news today? Where’s Off the Hook? How does Callie manage to get her tentacles to look so shiny every day?”

Marie narrowed her eyes. “I swear, if you drop in a tentacle oil sponsorship…”

“Well, as it turns out, Off the Hook is beginning their country-wide tour today!” Callie said. The screen behind them flickered to show a poster advertising said tour, with Pearl and Marina posing in the middle of Starfish Mainstage. It was _way_ more dramatic than it had any right to be, considering their band was basically just a loud goblin and her nerdy girlfriend.

“They asked us to fill in for them while they’re gone,” Marie explained. “You’re welcome, Inkopolis.”

“Tickets are going fast, but there’s still plenty left, so whip out your phones _right now_ if you wanna see the best vocal group in history whose name is not the Squid Sisters!”

“Seriously. I dropped by one of the rehearsals; that show is gonna be _fresh.”_

Callie leaned forward and clasped her hands together. “Isn’t it so nice to see newer artists come up and seize the spotlight, Marie? It reminds me of us when we were younger!”

Marie smirked. “Yeah, as long as they don’t take our number one all-time best seller spot. I’ve got bragging rights to consider, Callie.”

“Well, enough dilly dally,” Callie said. “Let’s move on to today’s stages!”

Marie poked at Marina’s turntable. “Hey, am I supposed to use this thing? Because I do not know how to use this thing.”

“I think it’s fake? Like, Marina does her little scratchy move, but then the sound guys just play an effect.”

“Are you sure?” Marie rubbed one of the records, eliciting a loud screech, and causing the screen in the background to rotate through like seventeen different stages. “Fuck.”

“Oh my god,” Callie said, eyes going wide. “Did you break it?”

“Shit, I think—”

The screen cut to black, and the words ‘Just a Moment, Please!’ came up.

Three walked over to the recording studio and knocked on the glass. Callie and Marie, who were concernedly watching a sound technician work on the turntable, looked over. Three immediately started laughing and pointing at them. 

Callie rolled her eyes. Marie flipped her off.

Three turned and walked off towards where she’d parked, laughing all the way.

* * *

“And you’ve packed all the clothes you’ll need?”

“Yes, Marina,” Eight said.

“And you’ve got your toothbrush and toothpaste and everything?”

“Yes, Marina.”

“And—oh, we gave you cash, right?”

“Yes, Marina.”

“What about tentacle oil?”

“Yes, Marina.”

She harrumphed and put her hands on her hips, looking off to the side. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

Eight looked down at the suitcases piled at her feet. Somehow, she doubted it.

“Marina!” Pearl called from downstairs. Loudly. “We need to go! Stop being such a goddamn Mom!”

Marina rolled her eyes. “Just a sec, sweetie!” she called back, then turned to Eight once more, putting her hands on her shoulders. “And you’re _sure_ you’re comfortable with this?”

“Marina, really, I’m fine,” Eight said, giggling a little. “It’ll be fun! I’ll be with Three!”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Marina said. “I once saw her eat an abandoned slice of pizza off of a picnic table because she ‘didn’t want to turn down a free meal.’ It was gross!”

“Marina,” Eight said slowly, “I’ll be fine.”

Marina pursed her lips. “Alright. Well. We should get going, then.”

“Yeah. We don’t want to keep Pearl waiting unsupervised.”

Marina laughed a little, and helped Eight carry her bags down the stairs and to the front door, where Pearl was loitering, tapping her foot passive-aggressively. “Jeez, Eight,” she said. “With all those bags you’d think you were going camping in the Salmonid Swamps or something.”

“Well, she _is_ going to Three’s place,” Marina commented. 

Eight jabbed her with an elbow. “It’s not that bad,” she said. “You’ve never even been!”

“How about we stop arguing over the swampiness of Three’s apartment and start getting into the car so that we’re not fucking late to the first show of the tour which starts in just under three hours and is not even in this goddamn city,” Pearl tactfully suggested.

“You’re right,” Marina said, hoisting the bags she was carrying into the back of the car. Eight followed her lead, and soon they were all inside Pearl’s insanely fancy car and on their way to Three’s apartment complex. When they arrived, Three was already waiting for them outside the building’s entrance. She walked up to the car as Eight got out.

“Hey Three!” Eight exclaimed, running and giving her a small peck on the lips.

“Sup,” Three said after they parted. “I’m here to help with bags.”

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you,” Marina said, opening up the trunk. Pearl had stayed in the car, behind the wheel.

“What can I say? I’m just a great girlfriend.”

“Also she doesn’t want you to find out which apartment is hers, which would happen if either of you helped me instead of her,” Eight added.

“Yeah also that.”

Marina sighed. “Well, whatever. Here, you can take these.” She dropped a few bags in front of Three, and Eight pulled the rest out herself. With one final goodbye, Pearl and Marina were off again, and they began the trek up to Three’s apartment.

* * *

Three let out a grunt as she dropped the final suitcase to the ground in the middle of her living room, right under the Squid Sister poster. “Jeez, Eight. You came prepared.”

“Marina,” Eight said simply, with a slight edge to her voice. “She’s great, but… _Marina.”_

“Yeah, sounds like her,” Three said. “What’s in all of these anyway?”

“Uh, clothes, toiletries, electronics… weapons…” She paused. “A microwave…”

“Why the fuck did she have you pack a microwave? I already have one.”

“I think her words were, ‘So that if Three tries to use hers, you have a backup.’ Something like that.”

“I’m offended. Tell her I’m offended.”

“I’ll be sure to.”

They moved towards the merged dining room/kitchen area, where Three gestured to the fridge. “That’s my fridge. Um, obviously. Feel free to help yourself if you’re ever hungry, I try to keep it well-stocked.”

Eight took a step forward and looked at the fridge’s door. “Is that my list?”

“Oh, yeah, it is,” Three said. She had forgotten she had hung that there. “It’s that copy that Four threw at us, remember?”

Eight nodded. “I’ll need to give you version 3.0 sometime. Remind me.”

“Sweet, I can’t wait. That’s, like, the best version.”

“Yeah, but then the next one will be version 4.0”

Three grunted. “You’re right. Dammit. Well, whatever.”

“Hey, uh, Three? Thanks for letting me stay with you while Pearl and Marina are away.”

“Hm? Oh, of course! It’s no problem.”

“Yeah, but I know it was kind of last minute.”

That was an understatement…

* * *

**Two Days Ago**

Three paused her marathon of _Pools and Recreation_ and put her phone to her ear.

“What.”

_“‘Sup, Three? It’s ya girl Pearl!”_

“Oh,” Three said, moving the phone about six inches away from her ear. “What’s up?”

_“So, you know me and ‘Rina are going on tour in a couple days, right?”_

“Yeah,” Three said. “The Squid Sisters announced it on the news today. And then Marie broke the news.”

_“Oh my god, that was fucking hilarious! Have you seen all the memes of it? Well, anyway, yeah, we’re going on tour, but that got me thinking, um… I don’t think Eight can really live by herself? Like, she can’t drive and stuff, you know?”_

“I can drive her,” Three offered.

_“Right, but we were thinking maybe it would be a whole lot easier if she stayed with you while we were gone.”_

“Like stayed with me in my apartment?” Three asked, her voice staying perfectly level. “Like a roommates situation? Like she lives in my house? With me? In my apartment? Where I live?”

 _“Um.”_ Pearl coughed. _“Yes?”_

“Okay. Yeah. Sure. Totally. I’m totally down. Two days, right?”

_“If it’s a problem we can totally ask someone el—”_

“No no it’s fine!” Three said quickly. “It’s fine. It’s fine! See you then!”

She hung up.

She looked around her apartment.

She let out a deep breath. “Fuck, how much does a vacuum cost?”

* * *

**Two Days Later (The Present)**

“Nah, I’m great on short notice,” Three said. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Oh. Okay!” Eight said.

“Alright, let’s take some of your stuff to the bedroom. Which ones are clothes?”

Eight indicated to a few suitcases, and the two of them carried them to Three’s bedroom and dropped them on the floor.

“Wow,” Eight said. “It looks much cleaner in here than I remember.”

Three flashed back to all the frantic cleaning and vacuuming she’d done yesterday and could feel her arms getting tired all over again. “Well, yeah. I figured, if you’re gonna be sleeping in here, then I should probably get my shit in order, right?”

“Where are you going to sleep?” Eight asked, eyeing the single twin bed.

“I dunno, the couch?” Eight frowned at her. “I’ll be alright, I’ve done it before.”

Eight didn’t look too happy about that, but she didn’t say anything for now. Three got to work making some room in her closet for Eight’s clothes when she heard Eight speak up behind her.

“What’s this?”

“What’s wha—oh, god dammit.” 

Eight was holding a brown paper bag that used to be sitting on Three’s desk, and was reading the attached note. She opened it up, took a look inside, and raised an eyebrow. “What even are these things?”

“Um.”

* * *

**One Day Ago**

It turned out vacuum cleaners were unreasonably expensive for how infrequently they were used. Or maybe Three just didn’t know how often one was expected to vacuum a house. Whatever. Point is, she was thankful for the one-year promotion she’d received from the museum. (She’d been lucky that Danny hadn’t bothered to rat her out for ditching on that tour back when Eight had shown up unexpectedly. Kind of like how Eight was unexpectedly going to live with her for two weeks. Oh god she needed to get back to her apartment there was so much work to do.)

She quickly paid for the vacuum, hefted the box under one arm, and walked out of the department store.

“So I hear Eight’s gonna be staying with you.”

“GAH!” Three yelled, whirling around and swinging the vacuum cleaner at whoever had surprised her. Much to her chagrin, however, Marie was prepared, and easily caught the heavy box in her hand before it could collide with her head.

“You know, Three, one day you’ll be surprised by someone who isn’t military trained, and you’ll give them a concussion.”

“Yeah? Well maybe the reason that hasn’t happened yet is because it’s only you fuckers who sneak up on me, because you _know_ how I’m gonna react, and you’re sadists who find it funny!”

“Well it is pretty funny,” Marie said, letting go of the vacuum. “But anyway. Eight’s rooming with you, huh?”

“Yes, but how do you know that?” Three asked. “Seriously, do you have my phone tapped?”

“Relax. You’re paranoid.” Three was beginning to notice that whenever she asked that, Marie never said ‘yes’ or ‘no’ explicitly. It was concerning. “I came to give you a gift.”

Three raised an eyebrow, and Marie handed her a brown paper bag with a note attached. _Dear Three,_ it read, _Here’s a gift for you and Eight now that you’re going to be living together. Remember: a little goes a long way. Stay safe! —Two ;)_

Three looked at Marie and raised her eyebrow higher. Marie just smiled that awful, mischievous, nightmarish smile that she and Callie shared and motioned for Three to look inside. Whenever they grinned like that, it was bad news. But as loathe as she was to admit it, Three was growing a bit curious, so, preparing for the worst, she opened the bag.

She should’ve prepared for even worse. It was filled with so, so many condoms, all sprinkled around a jar of lube. Three stared into the bag for a few seconds, and then, slowly, lifted her gaze to meet Marie’s. Three glared at the idol with as much concentrated disdain as she could fit into her expression, and tried to make it extremely clear just how fucking appalled Three was with Marie’s bullshit.

The motherfucker just laughed.

“Marie,” Three started, her voice a cold poison, “what the fuck.”

“You two—” Her voice momentarily broke from the laughing. “You two are gonna be living together so I thought—” Another harsh laugh. “I thought you’d appreciate the protection!”

“Neither of us have dicks you god-forsaken pile of shitty discarded red bull cans,” Three said, which only made Marie laugh harder. “Why the fuck do you have all this shit anyway? You don’t have a boyfriend. Are you even straight?”

“Alright, well, I’ve had my fun,” Marie said, cackling as she turned and walked off. “Have fun with Eight, Three! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“You’re an asshole!” Three called after her. “You’re a fucking awful friend and I hope you choke and die!”

“Love you too, Three!”

* * *

**One Day Later (The Present)**

“They’re, uh.” Three coughed. “Marie—I—they’re—look. They’re, like. Fuck. Marie gave them to me as a joke. They’re condoms. Boys wear them during sex.”

Eight blushed a little, but only looked more confused. “That’s a… strange joke.”

“Well, you know Marie,” Three said. “God. Hey, what do you say we talk about literally anything else?”

“Okay,” Eight said. “So do you really want to sleep on the couch? Because I think we could share the bed. I mean, if you’re comfortable and everything.”

Three’s lips wormed around a little before she asked, “You’d be okay with that?”

Eight smiled. “Yeah! I think it’d be fun. But only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“I’ll… think about it,” Three said.

“Great!” Eight said, like sleeping with Three was best thing that could ever happen to her.

Not like. _‘Sleeping with Three’_ sleeping with Three, though. Obviously. Bed-sharing with Three. There you go. Phrasing.

God. Marie had gotten in her head.

They spent the next half hour or so unpacking the rest of Eight’s things (except for the microwave, which Three indignantly proclaimed would not need to leave its suitcase). Once that was done, they curled up on Three’s fucked-up couch and put on one of her shitty alien movies. It was outdated and kind of bad and one of Three’s favorite movies.

“Wait, is that supposed to be the alien?” Eight asked partway through, once it came on screen.

“Yeah,” Three said from where she was leaning her head on Eight’s shoulder. 

Eight twisted around to look at Three and raised an eyebrow. Three shifted against her to meet her eye. “What?”

“Three,” Eight said, “even I can tell that’s just a normal inkling in bad makeup.”

Three snickered. “I know right? I like how they tried to make her tentacles look like an extra set of claws coming off her head.”

“Is…” Eight giggled. “Is that what it’s supposed to be? That’s so bad!”

Then the ‘alien’ began ‘eviscerating’ one of the inkling soldiers, and Three officially lost it, breaking down into roaring laughter against Eight.

“Oh my god!” she cackled. “This part always fucking gets me!”

“Oh no,” Eight said, lifting a hand to her mouth to cover her smile. “Did they… did they really think this was good?”

Three shook her head. “Who fucking knows. Isn’t it great? Wait, wait, watch this part.”

They both turned back to the TV. _“Shit! Martha’s down!”_ one of the other soldiers shouted. Then it cut to a close up of the alien, who snapped its head around towards the voice and let out a screechy hiss that sounded more like a cat vomiting than any sound an extraterrestrial would make, and raised its tentacle-claws up in a vague gesture of aggression.

Three and Eight collapsed against each other in fits of laughter, falling onto the sofa cushions in a pile of limbs and tentacles. 

“This—this—wow,” Eight said. “This is so much better than those romance movies Pearl and Marina have.”

“Isn’t it?”

As more fake blood splattered onto the walls and overdramatic screams of agony rang through Three’s speakers, the two of them didn’t bother sitting back up, and just lay there in a tangled mess, feeling each other’s hearts beat. Three sighed lightly; Off the Hook should go on more tours.


	2. Adventures in Bed Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

Three ripped the toothbrush from her mouth and spat into the sink. It was getting late, and she and Eight were now getting ready for bed. The single bed. That they were apparently going to share. Hoo boy.

It was fine. Eight was nice. Great, even. Pretty much the only person Three would ever even consider sharing a bed with for more than half a second. Like, Four? Not in a million years! Either of the Squid Sisters? Hell no, they were like six years older than her! So she supposed it meant a lot that part of her was very excited at the prospect of sleeping with Eight.

Not, like, _sleeping with Eight_ sleeping with Eight, though. She really needed to stop phrasing it like that. 

Not that she would mind sleeping with Eight. But, no, how the hell would she even bring that up? Would Eight even be comfortable with that? Well, probably, they’d had some pretty intense makeouts by now. But she still had no fucking clue how to even approach that subject. For now, she should just ignore the whole metaphorical sleeping with Eight thing and just sleep with Eight in a purely literal sense.

She finished rinsing out her mouth and entered the hallway, making her way to her room. She’d changed into the shorts and tank top she used as pajamas while in the bathroom, and Eight had changed in the bedroom. Judging by the open door, she had finished by now.

Three walked into the doorframe and froze. She had been very wrong. 

Eight was standing in the middle of the room facing the door. She was wearing her pajama bottoms, but the complementary shirt was still laid out on Three’s bed, and at the moment Three walked in, Eight was halfway through taking off her day shirt.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” Three said, standing stock-still. 

“Oh, hey, Three,” Eight said. “I’m almost ready, just give me a sec.”

“Right,” Three said, preparing to shut the door. “So, I’ll just—” She stopped as Eight removed her shirt in one swift motion, leaving only her bra covering her chest. Then her hands moved around to undo that, too.

“Did you say something?” she asked.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” Three repeated, just in case Eight had missed it the first time.

“Aw, you’re blushing,” Eight said, dropping her bra on the floor next to her shirt.

“Yes,” Three said slowly. “You are not wearing a shirt.”

Eight giggled, and grabbed her pajama shirt. “You’re so easy to tease. I’ve seen _you_ without a shirt before, remember?”

“Yes, but that was after a few minutes of kissing,” Three said. “I wasn’t expecting you to take your shirt off right in front of me.”

“You knew I was changing in here,” Eight pointed out, throwing on her pajama top.

“I thought you were done! You’d left the door open!”

Eight giggled, walking over to Three and taking her by the hands. She looked up into Three’s face, smiled in that lovely way of hers, and said, “Shut up.”

Three gave her a look of exasperation, but shut up she did as Eight led her over to the bed. They crawled in together, turned off the light, and wrapped their arms around each other. Her bed was much cozier this way, Three thought absently as she felt Eight snuggle just a little bit closer to her. 

She was glad they’d found each other.

* * *

Eight decided that Three was warm and also comfy.

She had known this for a while, she supposed—probably ever since their first disaster of a date, when they’d fallen asleep on Three’s couch together. But now, as she lay with Three on her just-barely-big-enough twin bed, enjoying the way she felt cradled against her body, it was really hitting Eight just how much she loved the Inkling. 

It was a little bit ridiculous, to be perfectly candid. Eight scooted back a little to look at Three: her head, her arms, her chest, her stomach, her hips. Three opened her eyes, smirked at Eight, and pulled her back in.

Hmm. Eight was feeling things right now. She debated bringing up The Thing that she’d been thinking about for a while now, but she wasn’t sure if now was the best time to discuss The Thing. But, when even would be the right time to discuss The Thing? She should probably just go for it. 

Eight took a deep breath, and spoke just above a whisper. “Hey, Three, can I ask you something? It’s… I don’t think it’s something I want to ask Pearl and Marina, but I really need to know.”

Three opened one eye. “Shoot.”

“What’s Inkling sex like?”

Three met Eight’s gaze, unblinking, for a good ten seconds. Then, she let out a single, strangled chuckle, and said, “Excuse me?”

“Well, see, because Octolings had this one way we did it—I mean, my memories are fuzzy and all, but I’m pretty sure I remember how it usually went—”

“Oh my god,” Three said.

“—but it wasn’t like a romantic act, or anything, down there, obviously, because we didn’t have romance. It was mostly physical. But then, well, the other day, I was on the internet and I came across some videos—”

“Oh my god,” Three said.

“—and they were _waaaaaay_ different from what I’m used to. Like, seriously, you’d think our anatomy would be pretty similar, all things considered, but, nope! Not at all!”

“Oh my god,” Three said.

“So, basically, I was just wondering what the conventional ways were for Inklings to have sex, because I’m not sure those videos were entirely representative.” She paused. “Are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

“Is there any particular reason you brought this up while we’re sharing a bed?”

Eight looked down at the covers, looked at the way they were holding each other, and then looked back at Three. “Do you _want_ there to be a particular reason that I brought this up while we’re—”

“Jesus fucking christ, Eight,” Three said. She’d turned a lovely shade of orange. “Look. Do want me to tell you, or do you want me to show you?”

Now it was Eight’s turn to blush. “Um. Well I don’t want to screw this up, so maybe, like, both in quick succession?”

“Fucking. Okay. I guess this is happening.” Three coughed. “Alright, listen up. Here’s Three’s never-before-heard lesbian sex talk, based on zero real experience and a fair bit of porn.”

She then went on to describe a great many things using a great many details, peppered with a great deal of stuttering and occasionally a great deal of lip-biting, which Eight was sure she was also doing. 

“Okay I think I’m ready,” Eight said once she was done. “Are you ready?”

“Bitch I’ve been ready ever since that make out session we had in the museum break room,” Three said.

Eight smirked. “Why didn’t you say anything? Were you shy?”

She made some half-formed sputtering noises and averted eye contact. It was adorable. “No, I—I just didn’t want to pressure you!”

“Mind if I pressure you some right now?” Eight asked, moving one claw onto Three’s thigh. She didn’t know where this confidence was really coming from; she was just _dying_ to see Three blush even harder.

“Oh fuck yes,” Three mumbled, rotating on the bed and wrenching Eight on top of her.

Eight let out a shaky breath as they stared at each other’s eyes, and then reached out to grab Three’s wrists, pinning them to the mattress. She licked her lips, which caused Three to bite her bottom lip and wriggle a bit under Eight’s grasp.

Eight hummed to herself. She really had to do something about these clothes. She leaned down, curled a couple tentacles around Three’s shorts, and yanked them off.

Three’s breath hitched. “Woah. Is that an Octoling thing? ‘Cause that was fucking hot.”

“I’m kind of making this up as I go,” Eight breathed.

Three nodded absently, never breaking eye contact. “Well, don’t stop on my account.”

Eight didn’t.

* * *

The first thing Three noticed when she woke up was that Eight wasn’t in the bed with her. It was a fairly disappointing realization, but considering how early Octolings tended to rise, she supposed it couldn’t be helped.

The second thing Three noticed when she woke up was that she was naked, which caused a whole ocean of memories to flood back to her. They filled her with a mixture of happiness, horniness, embarrassment, and a little bit of confusion. 

Eight was a whole different beast in bed. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate—more like, in such an intimate setting, aspects of her personality that were usually kept fairly well hidden in day-to-day life really entered center stage. The same was true for herself, Three supposed. She found that she’d ended up dropping her brash and confident persona pretty quickly.

Three sighed. What she was trying to say was that she hadn’t really expected Eight to be such a top and herself to be such a bottom, but apparently that was just the way things were going to be in this relationship, and Three found herself surprisingly on board with that.

The third thing Three noticed when she woke up, after getting out from under the covers and throwing on her discarded pajamas, was Marie’s brown paper bag of sex products. 

“God fucking dammit,” Three mumbled to herself. Marie could _never_ find out that she had totally called what had happened last night from a mile away. Three would sooner blow herself up with her own splat bomb.

Three pushed Marie’s freaky mind games out of her head as best she could and walked out of her room towards the kitchen. Eight was there, seated at the table, finishing up a bowl of cereal.

“Oh! Good morning, Three!” she greeted, smiling.

“Hey,” Three rasped, making a beeline for the fridge. She extracted the jug of orange juice, snatched a glass from the cabinet, poured, and then downed the whole thing at once before putting the juice back into the fridge. She wiped her mouth. “Sleep well?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eight said, looking at Three with mild concern. “I forgot you always do that after you wake up.”

“My blood is forty percent orange juice.”

“You should probably see a doctor about that.” Eight paused. “So how about you?”

“Hmm?” Three grabbed some pop tarts and tossed them into the toaster.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, yeah. I slept great.” There was about a minute of silence, and then the toaster’s pleasant _ding_ as the pop tarts popped. Three grabbed them and walked over to the table.

“Shouldn’t you use a plate?” Eight asked.

Three took a bite out of one pop tart. “Who does the dishes over at your place?”

“Marina and Pearl,” Eight said. “Why?”

“Well, here’s a secret. Doing the dishes sucks ass. So I only use tableware when the meal requires it.” She took another bite. “Pop tarts do not.”

“I see,” Eight said. “I’m learning so much about efficient living already.”

“Yeah. Take fucking notes.”

“I think this is why Marina compares your apartment to the Salmonid Swamps.”

“Well she can go fuck herself,” Three said, then stuffed her face with more pop tart. “And her dishwasher that she apparently loves to spend time with.”

Eight got up to take her empty cereal bowl into the kitchen, then returned and pursed her lips, drumming her fingers on the table. “So are we gonna talk about how we—”

“Oh thank god I thought I was the one who would have to bring it up,” Three said. “So, uh, everything good?”

“I was going to ask you that,” Eight said. “I mean, if anybody got too, um, into it, it was probably me?”

“That’s… fair,” Three said, flashing back to last night. “But you’ve got nothing to worry about. It was… good. Really good. I had fun.”

Eight smiled. “Great. Me too.” She paused. “Should I tell Pearl and Marina?”

Three almost choked on her pop tart. “Uhhhhhh. Why?”

“I dunno,” Eight said with a shrug. “They’re always looking out for me and stuff. I think they’d want to know.” Three gave her a look, and Eight reached out to swat at her. “Not in a creepy way, Three! Come on, you know what I mean.”

“I… I guess?”

“Would that be weird? I mean, I know it’s like somewhat socially taboo or whatever, but it doesn’t seem too weird.”

“It’s a little weird,” Three informed her.

“Oh.” She frowned. “Well. Maybe I’ll keep it to myself for now.”

“Yeah,” Three said. “That’s probably for the best? Unless it like, comes up naturally. I think if you called Marina and just dropped ‘oh hey yeah I had sex with Three’ over the phone, she’d have a heart attack. It’d ruin their tour and everything.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Eight said. Three gave her another look, which caused her to go a bit red. “I wouldn’t!”

Three pulled out her phone and navigated towards her saved voicemails. “Hey, Eight remember this?”

She leaned forward, trying to get a better look. “Remember what?”

Three hit play, and Eight’s voice began to play. _“Three? Is that you? Are you there? What’s a voicemail?”_

“Oh,” Eight said. “Yes I remember. You can stop it now.”

Three did not, and past-Eight resumed talking. _“Oh! I get it. Um, hi, it’s Eight! I was just calling to tell you that I love—”_ It abruptly cut out, and Three stopped the recording there. 

Eight was crossing her arms indignantly and giving Three a death glare. “Why do you have that saved?”

“Because it’s cute,” Three said. “And it proves my point.”

Eight rolled her eyes. “Fine. You’re right, I guess.”

“Mmhmm,” Three said. “And, besides, if you tell them, then they’re gonna come ask me a bunch of questions that I am _super_ not prepared to answer.”

“Oh!” Eight said, after a moment. “Sorry, unrelated, but Four texted me. She invited us over for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, shit, really?” Three asked. She was honestly just glad that she wouldn’t have to figure out dinner tonight.

“Mmhmm. Callie and Marie are going to be there, too.”

“Huh,” Three said. “I wonder what the occasion is.”

“She didn’t say anything else.”

“Well, I don’t pretend to understand how Four’s mind works,” Three said. “Anyway. That should be fun. I hope.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Eight assured. “We’re all such great friends!”

Three nodded absently and looked out the window, taking in the lovely view of the other shitty apartment complex that was across the street. “Yeah. I just hope Marie isn’t an asshole.”

Eight raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Three sighed. “Don’t worry about it.”


	3. Not Appropriate for the Dinner Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three and Eight head over to Four's place for a relaxed, easy-going, drama-free dinner with their friends.

By the time Three and Eight arrived at Four’s apartment, the Squid Sisters were already there, sitting on their phones at the table. They could hear the clattering of pots and pans coming from the other room.

“Three! Eight!” Four called from the kitchen as they shut the door. “What’s crackalackin’?”

“Never say that to me ever again,” Three said.

“Thanks so much for inviting us over!” Eight chirped. “What’s the occasion?”

“I dunno,” Four said, briefly showing up in the doorframe to the kitchen. She brandished an oven mitt on one hand, and a kitchen knife in the other. “It’s just been a while since we all hung out, and I was bored of my other friends. So now we’re having a Squidbeak Splatoon Hang Out Sesh.”

“Or SSHOS for short,” Callie added.

Marie rolled her eyes. “I told you that’s not going to stick.”

“Buzzkill.”

“Getting bored of your other friends, huh?” Three asked. Normally, she wouldn’t pry into what was so close to Four’s personal life, but she was really hoping she could avoid being the topic of conversation tonight. “By that do you mean the pretentious pro-turfers or the pretentious art students?”

“Three, they’re the same,” Marie said. “Four’s whole team went to Inkblot.”

“Really?” Three asked, eyes wide. “Wow, your team must be shit!”

“I know, right?” Marie agreed. “I thought she was joking when she first told me.”

“You come into _my house,”_ Four said. “I am cooking you people _dinner._ Show a little respect!”

“Right. I’m very sorry, Four, for insulting your pretentious art student teammates who are probably very bad at turfing.”

“Apology accepted,” Four said. “Thank you for being so sensitive. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure these dinner rolls don’t burn.”

Four retreated back into the kitchen, so Three and Eight took their seats. Before too long, food was on the table, and they were all eating away.

“…And so it turns out that the turntable is actually linked to the screen,” Marie said. “Which is really fucking dumb if you ask me. Like, at that point, you’re almost _trying_ to make it obnoxious to handle.”

Callie let out a hum. “I don’t know. Are you sure it isn’t a you problem? I mean, Marina seems to have no trouble with it.”

“Yeah, Marie,” Four said. “Marina’s never caused the news to go offline for five minutes because she fucked up the turntable.”

“I’d like to see you shitheads try it sometime,” Marie snapped. “It’s harder than it looks. Anyway, what’s up with you guys?” She gestured to Three and Eight. “Rooming going well?”

“Yep,” Three said.

“It’s fun!” Eight added.

“God, I can’t imagine sharing an apartment with someone,” Four said, shivering. “You’d have to work out, like, showering arrangements and stuff, right? What a nightmare.”

“We manage,” Three said.

“Mmhmm, mmhmm,” Callie said, nodding her head and swallowing her food. “So, Eight, tell me; what’s Three’s apartment like?”

Eight briefly shot a glance at Three. “Um, well. It’s… cozy. The walls are white. She has a couch.”

“Does she own soap? Eight, this is important.”

“Okay, that’s enough personal questions,” Three said, waving an arm. “No more interrogating.”

Four snickered like the goblin that she was. “Sounds like someone doesn’t own soap.”

Three rolled her eyes. “I own soap, moron. Now stop intentionally trying to breach my privacy through Eight.”

“Three you are literally in my apartment right now. I don’t think this counts as breaching your privacy.”

“God, next you’re going to be asking me my favorite color or some shit.”

“You’re being slightly more cagey than normal,” Marie observed. “What’s up?”

“None of your business,” Three said.

Marie smirked that smirk of hers. “Wait, lemme guess: you and Eight got it on.”

Three blushed neon orange and sat up so quickly her chair toppled over, then _slammed_ her hands against the table. “How the _fuck_ did you know that, Marie?!”

Callie, Marie, and Four froze. Eight slammed her head onto the table.

“Um,” Four said after a beat, “what?”

“Holy shit, Three,” Marie said, clearly struggling not to laugh. “I was just teasing. But I’m glad my gift was appropriate.”

“Wow,” Callie murmured, wide-eyed. “First night? That’s… wow.”

Three closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Fuck her entire life.

“Well, hey,” Marie said. “Congratulations you two. How was it?”

“Marie!” Callie chided.

“It was really good,” Eight mumbled into the table.

“So, stop me if I’m breaching your privacy,” Four said, “but I really need to know: who’s the top?”

Three grit her teeth. “Four, I swear to god, when I’m finished with you, there will be _nothing left.”_

“Well, after a threat like that, my money’s on Three,” Callie said. “Plus, have you seen her in battle?”

That got Eight’s face off the table. She looked at Callie and gave a single, piecing laugh. “HA! In her dreams, maybe.”

Marie nearly spit out drink as she started dying of laughter.

“I want to fucking die,” Three groaned, slumping forward onto the table.

“Oh my god this is the best day of my life,” Four said. “Man, I bet Three’s into, like, inkplay or some shit.”

“I don’t even know what the fuck that is,” Three said.

Marie laughed. The bitch fucking _chortled._ “Yeah, right. Don’t play dumb.”

“I seriously don’t know what inkplay is.”

Callie gave her cousin a strange look. “Why do _you_ know what it is?”

“Unimportant. But just so you know, it _totally_ seems like it’d be Three’s kind of thing.”

“I’m so fucking done,” Three said. She got up, marched over to her backpack, and grabbed her inktank. “See y’all fuckers later.”

“Three? What are you doing?” Callie asked.

Three didn’t answer. She strapped on her inktank, briefly shifted her color to blue, materialized a splat bomb, and dropped it at her feet.

“Aw, Three!” Four protested. “You’re gonna get ink all over my apartment!”

“It’s what you deserve,” Three said, shifting back to orange. “Sayonara, motherfuckers. Three out.”

She flipped them off with both hands as the bomb went off, killing her instantly.

* * *

“She is _so_ overdramatic,” Four said, staring at where blue ink covered the corner of her dining room.

“Guys, I think we were a little hard on her,” Callie said. “She’s probably really self conscious about all this already.”

“You sure it’s not just Three being Three?” Marie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She literally just blew herself up to escape a social situation. That’s extreme, even for her.”

“Nah, she does this all the time,” Four said with a wave of her hand. “Once I told her that rocky road is the best ice cream flavor—which it is, by the way—and she jumped into a fountain. She was my ride, too! I had to go all the way over to the public spawns and convince her to drive me back here.”

 _“Mikero!”_ Eight said suddenly, jumping out of her chair. “She was my ride!”

“She’ll probably come back here, then,” Four assured. “Trust me. She’s fine.”

 _“Mikero?”_ Marie repeated. “That’s not one I know.”

Callie shot Marie a look that clearly communicated ‘Why do you know any Octarian swears at all?’ but Marie ignored her.

Eight brought a finger to her chin. “Um, it doesn't have a direct translation, but we use it kind of like you guys use ‘motherfucker,’ I think? Literally, it’s a derogatory term for someone who receives anal penetration.”

“Lovely,” Callie said.

“So, just to come full circle,” Four began, “would you describe Three as a _mikero?”_

Eight hit her.

* * *

After telling the spawn operators the reason why she died (“I was in the middle of an awkward conversation and I couldn’t think of a better way to leave”) and paying the resultant fine for abusing her functional immortality, Three quickly made her way back to Four’s apartment through the use of several mildly illegal superjumps.

She opened up the apartment door without preamble, interrupting something that Callie was saying about alternative music or some shit. 

“Oh, hey, Three,” Marie said. “Eight was just in the middle of explaining what you guys did last night in explicit detail.”

“Marie, stop,” Callie said.

“It’s cool,” Three said with a shrug. “I did a lot of thinking after my brief run-in with death, and I realized that all of you are just compensating for the fact that none of you have gotten laid in recent memory. If you need more details so that you can have a more complete mental picture of the fantastic sex that you’re not having, please, just ask.”

“Well fuck,” Four said.

“See? She’s fine. She knows how to hit back,” Marie said. “Anyway, we should really get going.”

Callie checked her watch. “Oh, shoot, yeah. Alright, well, thanks for dinner, Four! We’ll see you all later!”

“Bye!” Eight called.

“Have fun you two!” Three shouted at them. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Ew! Gross, Three!” Callie called back before shutting Four’s apartment door.

“Well,” Four said. “This has been an eventful night.”

“It always seems to be,” Three observed. “I can probably count on one hand the number of times four or more of us have been in the same place without some sort of chaos breaking loose.”

Four nodded sagely in agreement.

“Oh, uh, Four,” Eight asked. “Can I ask you something?”

Four turned. “Uh, yeah, go for it.”

“What’s ink play?”

Four blinked. “Sorry?”

“You mentioned it earlier. Some sort of sex thing, right?”

“…Yes,” Four said slowly. “Why…?”

“Well it sounded interesting.”

Three was instantly sent into a violent coughing fit.

“Um, you know what?” Four said, her cheeks growing steadily yellower. “How about you look that one up yourself.”

“I think we should probably go now,” Three hacked out, desperation lacing her voice.

Eight replied in acknowledgement, and they gathered their things before making their way to the door. 

“Bye, Four!” Eight said.

“Yeah. Thanks for having us or whatever,” Three said.

Four laughed. “You’re welcome, Three. Sounds like you’re in for an interesting couple weeks, huh?”

“Hey how about you shut the fuck up.”

“See you later!” Four closed the door in her face.

Three sighed. “I hate our friends.”

“No, you don’t,” Eight said, weaving her fingers into Three’s.

“No, I don’t,” she admitted.

* * *

The next couple weeks passed in a blissful wave for Eight. The day after the party at Four’s place was a Monday, so starting then, Three had to go in for work each day. Eight would amuse herself like she normally did when Pearl and Marina weren’t around—she browsed the internet, played video games, watched TV, et cetera. Then Three would get home, and unless they had any errands to run, they usually did those exact same things except now it was much more fun because Three was there. 

They did some turfing, too, every so often, of course. Eight had finally worked her way up into S rank in most of the modes after a frankly absurdly long winning streak, so the games were at least somewhat competitive now. Even still, between herself and Three, it wasn’t much of a contest most of the time. Usually, they’d just compete with each other to see who could get the most splats while their teammates held the objective.

Her favorite mode, she supposed, was Clam Blitz, which had surprised her. When Three had first explained the rules to her, Eight had told her that it was ‘the stupidest way to gauge combat merit she had heard of’ and a ‘complete disgrace to the tradition of the turf war,’ and she still stood by those points, but it was _really_ satisfying to throw those clams into that basket. She suspected it was something about the little _ding_ that the basket made each time the sensor detected that you’d scored. Also, it was Three’s worst game mode, which meant Eight could usually do better than her, which was a nice change of pace.

“I don’t understand how we _always_ end up going turfing on Clam Blitz rotations,” Three grumbled as she unlocked their apartment door. They’d just gotten back from the Square after a satisfying few rounds of battling. “It seems like it’s almost always that or Rainmaker, which is hardly better.”

“I think you’re just mad that you didn’t score any clams that last game,” Eight said.

“I was fucking robbed by that roller asshole,” Three insisted. She finally managed to open the door, and she stalked into the apartment, tossing her hero shot onto a pile of junk in the corner of the living room. Eight set her N-Zap on the coffee table; she’d only recently gotten to the level required to use it, and she was liking it okay so far. She only wished the special were something better than Ink Armor; Sheldon talked a big game about its various uses, but it just seemed kinda bad.

As Three reheated some leftover pizza in the microwave, Eight poured two glasses of water and placed them at the table. Just as she sat down, her phone buzzed from within her pocket: it was the group chat she had with Pearl and Marina.

 **Marina:** Hey, Eight! Hope you’re doing alright!

 **Marina:** We just finished up our concert here in Calamari County. We’re flying back to Inkopolis tomorrow!

 **Eight:**!!

 **Eight:** I can’t wait to see you guys again!

 **Pearl:** Hell yeah baby

 **Pearl:** Yo make sure you guys all come to our final concert

 **Pearl:** Starfish Mainstage at Eight!

 **Marina:** We insisted on that start time… ;)

 **Eight:** Yeah of course we’re going!

 **Eight:** Oh but Three says she’s not paying for her ticket.

 **Pearl:** Cheapskate

 **Pearl:** Well fine whatever. Basically all our shows sold out so I SUPPOSE we can spare a few free seats for you guys, but she owes me one

 **Marina:** We already have seats reserved for all of you. Pearl’s just being difficult.

 **Eight:** Haha okay well I’ll see you there!

 **Eight:** <3

 **Marina:** <3

 **Pearl:** B)

 **Marina:** Pearl!

 **Pearl:** Ugh fine

 **Pearl:** <3

 **Pearl:** The levels I stoop to for you people

Eight giggled to herself and slipped her phone back into her pocket just as Three sat down across from her, sliding Eight a plate. (Pizza, she had explained earlier, only required a plate if you were eating more than one slice at a time, since it took two hands to eat effectively.) “Was that your moms?”

Eight opened her mouth to protest, but decided that was a lost cause, and just said, “Yeah.” Three smirked at her; Eight ignored it. “They’re flying back tomorrow to give their last concert. Apparently they already reserved seats for us.”

“Oh,” Three said. “Cool. Less hassle for me. I mean, have you seen those ticket prices?”

“They are pretty popular,” Eight said.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen prices that high since the Squid Sisters’ concert I went to, like, five years ago.”

“You also never go to concerts,” Eight reminded her.

“Whatever.” Three shoved half a slice of pizza into her mouth all at once and ate it with animalistic efficiency. “So, are you gonna be moving back in with them after tomorrow, then?”

Oh. She hadn’t thought about that. “I… guess so.”

“You seem disappointed,” Three said, smiling slightly.

Eight sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know, it’s just been… a lot of fun living with you and stuff. Not that I don’t love them, but…”

“Nah, I get it,” Three said. “Don’t worry, I can, like, sneak into your house in the middle of the night, and we can see if we’re able to bang each other without waking Pearl and Marina.” 

“Three!” Eight could feel the ink rushing to her face. 

Three shrugged. “I mean, it’s a little cliche, sure, but you missed out on your rebellious teen years, so we gotta make up for lost ground.”

“What if they catch us?”

“Isn’t that part of the thrill?”

“Ah! No!” Eight covered her face up with her hands and violently shook her head, trying to stop her imagination. Though to be fair it did seem kind of thrilling BUT NOT IN A SEXY WAY. NO. IN A BAD WAY. IN A VERY BAD WAY. “You’re the worst, Three!”

“What?” she asked innocently. “You were so gung ho about telling them all about it after the first time. This would just be telling them in a more interesting way!”

Eight groaned and dragged her hands down her face. “No. Absolutely not.” She let Three laugh a little at her expense (jerk!) before going on. “But it’s not just that. Obviously. I mean, that’s a part of it, but it’s… I don’t know. I like seeing you in the morning every day. Stuff like that.”

Three was quiet for a moment. “Yeah. Me too.” She sighed. “Look, we don’t have to talk about this now. Let’s just enjoy our time today and tomorrow, and then go suffer through Pearl’s rapping for an hour. _Then_ maybe we’ll talk about it.”

Eight nodded. That sounded good. “Hey, uh, Three. I was thinking, maybe, you want to enjoy our time together tonight, too?”

Three looked confused for a half a second before her eyebrows shot up and she let out a soft, “Oh! Yeah. Yes. Sure. Let me finish my pizza first though, I’m really hungry.”

Eight giggled. “Right, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify: Three does, in fact, own soap.


	4. Moving Right Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three hates concerts.

Starfish Mainstage was _packed_ by the time Three and Eight arrived. They shoved their way though the crowds up towards their seats; they weren’t front row or anything, but for a show as big as this, they were pretty good. Three grumbled some half-hearted ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s as she shuffled past the kneecaps of the other concert-goers before she finally arrived at her seat, dropping down next to Four.

“Sup,” Four greeted. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

“I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“Hi Four!” Eight said, taking her seat on the other side of Three.

Three leaned forward and looked past Four, but only saw a family of Jellies. “Where are Callie and Marie? Shouldn’t they be here?”

“Oh, they’re here all right,” Four said, pointing up towards one of the VIP boxes. Three followed her finger—sure enough, there they were, chatting it up in the special seats. Marie was even drinking a soda. This kind of pissed Three off, because she could really go for a soda right about now, but food and drink weren’t allowed in the venue. Unless you were a celebrity, apparently.

“Wow. Guess they’re just too good for us, huh?”

Four elbowed her. “You know what would happen if they sat next to us. We’d get mobbed.”

“Shut up!” Eight called suddenly, throwing an arm across Three’s body. “Here they come!”

Three looked towards the stage just in time to see Pearl and Marina superjump in from who knows where; Pearl landed behind the microphone, and Marina landed right behind her equipment, which cleverly hid her octopus form from the spotlights. (It still amazed Three that everybody just assumed the Octolings were just Inklings with weird haircuts.) 

“What’s good, Inkopolis?!” Pearl shouted into the mic. “Y’all ready for this?!”

The crowd erupted, even as Marina began playing out the opening bars to _Color Pulse_ on her synth. “Thank you all for coming out tonight!” she called out into her own microphone. “And, hey, give it up to the Squid Sisters for covering the news while we were away!”

She threw a hand up towards the Squid Sisters’ box, and the crowd’s cheering crescendoed as Callie and Marie waved down at the audience. 

“We’re so excited to finally take this tour back home,” Marina said. “So let’s not waste any time! Sing it with me if you know it, people!

 _“Rasta, ruminai, yonabiarubawe!”_ Marina sang.

And so did Eight next to her. Three gave her a tired look, but Eight just giggled. “Come on, Three! You gotta sing along!”

“I’m not singing.”

“Oh, wow, Three,” Four admonished. “I didn’t know you hated Off the Hook. I didn’t know you despised Eight’s parents.”

“Guilt me all you want, I’m not singing.”

 _“Rasta, riposei, nyuzetarahankista!”_ Eight sang. Three noticed she had a really pretty singing voice, but like hell was she gonna tell her that right now. She did _not_ need encouragement.

“Here, I’ll do Pearl’s part,” Four said. _“Monin nyunennai! Wasaponnatai, za nemora!”_

Three turned to Four. “Please, Four. I’m begging you.”

 _“Tashiniraomaigemora!”_ Four rapped.

“Yeah!” Eight said, bouncing in her seat. “Aw, this is gonna be such a fun concert!”

Three buried her face in her hands. “Four, if you’re going to sing, at least don’t _rap,_ okay?”

“Well, _someone_ has to be Pearl,” Eight stated.

Four smirked. “So unless you’re offering, Three—”

“Fuck no!”

“Well, you made your choice. _Wasaponnachenira, gana bai!”_

Then Eight came in just as Marina did, smiling like an idiot. _“Wikanirasta! Ninokurai!”_

_“Hey, hey, janpai!”_

_“Pikaporabari! Ninohai, onyasaaaaaaai!”_

Three sighed. This was going to be a long concert.

* * *

As the instrumentals from their final number faded into the background, Off the Hook took center stage, the sweat from dancing under the spotlights ever-so-slightly smudging their makeup. Four and Eight’s throats had gone hoarse a couple songs ago—much to Three’s endless relief—but it did make her wonder how Pearl and Marina could do this day after day while traveling all over the country. It was actually fairly impressive.

“Whew!” Pearl said, wiping her brow. “Thank you guys so much for coming out tonight! Y’all are the best!”

Marina nodded in agreement. “We’ve had the time of our lives on this tour, and ending it here in Inkopolis was the best possible way to end it. This city means so much to us, for so many reasons.”

“Speaking of—we may have sung our last song tonight, but we’ve still got one more surprise for you!” Pearl exclaimed.

“We do?” Marina asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Heck yeah we do!” Pearl said. “Like she said, this city is special for a lotta reasons, but the biggest one is that Inkopolis is where I met Marina.”

“Pearl, what are you doing?” Marina asked, though she couldn’t seem to keep from smiling.

Pearl turned to face her. “Marina, ever since I first saw you, I knew that we were gonna make sick-ass beats together forever. I’ve never been happier in my life before we got together and formed Off the Hook.”

“Did our manager okay this?” Marina asked.

“Fuck Naomi! We’ve wanted to go public since forever, and I do what I want!” Pearl said. “And what I want”—she pulled a small box out of her pocket and bent down onto one knee—“is for you to marry me, Marina!”

The audience went _batshit._

“In front of all these people? Pearlie, you jerk!” Marina laughed, taking the ring and sliding it onto her finger. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Pearl threw her hands up into the air. “WOOHOO! LET’S GO, INKOPOLIS!”

The crowd, somehow, grew even wilder, but Three was having minor difficulties paying attention. Eight had grabbed her by the shoulders and was violently jostling her around while screeching at a frequency that shouldn’t have been possible. 

“Eight—please—quit it—”

_“EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”_

“Eight!”

_“THREEEEEEEEEE! IT’S HAPPENIIIIIIIIIIING!”_

“Eight—oh my god—just stop shaking me so much—”

Finally, Eight let go, and Three let out a breath, gripping the armrests on her chair.

“Um, Eight?” Four asked from off to the side. “What are you doing?”

Three turned her head back to Eight. That was a good question. It almost looked like Eight was about to superjump.

Oh.

Shit.

“Wait, wait, Eight, no!” Three said, reaching out to grab her. But Three was a second too late, and suddenly Eight was flying through the air, and landed perfectly between Pearl and Marina, pulling them both into a giant hug.

They looked shocked, but soon returned the gesture. Pearl smiled sheepishly out at the audience and flashed a thumbs up at the security crustaceans, while Marina said something to Eight that nobody offstage could hear.

“God dammit Eight,” Three said.

“Uh, is this a problem?” Four said. “Aren’t people not supposed to know Eight exists?”

“Yes,” Three said. “She’s an illegal immigrant and previous war criminal.”

“Well, so’s Marina, right?”

“I guess? It still makes me nervous.”

“Well… it should be fine, I think,” Four assured. “Nobody’s going to do an extensive background check on her just because she was seen with Off the Hook.”

“I hope you’re right,” Three mumbled.

* * *

_Inkopolis Times — Celebrity News_

_**Off the Hook and Onto the Finger**  
By Saul T. Waters_

_As they wrapped up the final song of the final concert of their tour right here in Inkopolis, Off the Hook member Pearl Houzuki proposed to her partner in music and, apparently, romance, Marina Ida. This out-of-nowhere engagement shed light on a relationship kept secret for over a year: in Pearl’s proposal speech, she implied that the two have been dating ever since they first formed Off the Hook._

_This comes as a surprise for the majority of Inkopolis, except, perhaps, for a few friends in the industry—a few minutes after the concert, Marie Cuttlefish of the Squid Sisters published a post that simply read, “we been knew” on her Squidstagram. Neither member of Off the Hook has made any official comments, but in her proposal speech Pearl implied that their manager Naomi Charles, likely among others, had been advising them to keep quiet about it against their wishes. One can guess it had something to do with wanting them to establish a career for themselves before they reveal something that could be potentially controversial._

_And controversial it has been. The proposal is a huge win for the LGBT community across the country, and Off the Hook will surely be praised and loved in their hometown of Inkopolis, but it isn’t hard to predict the backlash that will come from the more conservative areas on the map. In fact, Mayor Trouter of Seasponge County has already issued an apology for allowing Off the Hook to perform in his town, stating that had he known about their relationship earlier, he would not have allowed it to happen. How he would accomplish something so unequivocally outside his mayoral jurisdiction, however, is a mystery to all._

_Pearl and Marina’s engagement came along with another surprise, too—a single young Inkling girl who superjumped onto the stage after Marina accepted the ring, and embraced the two in a hug. At first, people assumed she was a family member, friend, or maybe someone who worked with them on the management or production side, but nobody seems to know who she is. As far as research would indicate, she is not related to either member, and holds no job in the music business, which likely means she’s simply a friend of the group (unless you’re into conspiracy theories, in which case she’s their secret adopted daughter)._

_Off the Hook, as stated, has not made any comments on any of the proceedings from last night as of publishing this paper, though it likely won’t be long until they do._

_Saul T. Waters, Inkopolis Times._

Three set down the newspaper. Well, first off, fuck Seasponge County, and fuck Mayor Trouter. She was so glad she’d gotten out of there when she had. And second of all, she needed to make sure that Eight didn’t go outside without sunglasses on for the next few weeks.

Three was just about to get up when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She rolled her eyes and took it out, looking to see who had sent her a text.

 **Danny:** so uhhhhh amy

“Oh god fucking dammit it all to hell and back again,” Three mumbled under her breath. She had been looking forward to a Danny-free weekend off of work. And an Amy-free one, too, she guessed.

 **Danny:** was browsing 4clam and came across this???

He sent a picture of Eight hugging Pearl and Marina onstage.

 **Amy:** 4clam? Really? You’re worse than I thought

 **Danny:** not the point

 **Danny:** were u ever gonna mention that ur gf is apparently good friends w OtH

 **Danny:** possibly even there adopted child

 **Amy:** This is literally none of your business, asshat

 **Danny:** yo what if i told the press about u 2 lmao

 **Amy:** Then you would wake up one day with less limbs.

 **Danny:** jeez woman i was joking

 **Danny:** but like srsly thats wild

 **Danny:** did u guys all meet at like a lesbian club or something

 **Amy:** I’m not going to have this fucking conversation with you. Bye.

Three silenced her phone and stuffed it back into her pocket. That was _plenty_ of that.

* * *

Marina put her hands on her hips, looking down at the pile of boxes at Eight’s feet. She couldn’t help but feel as though they’d forgotten something. Pearl was leaning against the wall off to the side, and Three had planted herself on their couch, scrolling through something on her phone. Neither of them were being particularly constructive.

“And you’ve packed all the clothes you’ll need?”

“Yes, Marina,” Eight said.

“And you’ve got your turfing gear?”

“Yes, Marina.”

“And you have your—”

“Oh my god,” Three said, without looking away from her phone. “We’ve been here for, like, an hour. I think she’s good.”

Marina huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m _sorry_ for being thorough, but it’d be a hassle for Eight to have to come back and forth because she forgot something.”

“I think you’re just stalling because you don’t want her to leave,” Pearl said. Like a bad fiance would.

Ooh, it was fun to call Pearl her fiance.

Maybe she was right, though. Eight had been living with them for quite some time now, and she understood why she wanted to move out, but… it was still hard. Marina sighed. “Alright. Well, Eight, if you ever need a break from Three—”

Three narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“—you’re always welcome back here, alright?”

Eight smiled. “I know. Thanks, guys. You’ve helped me so much, ever since you helped me escape the metro, and I’ll always be grateful. I know it’s like, a joke or whatever, but you two are the closest thing to a family I have.”

“Eight, stop,” Pearl said, sniffling slightly. “You’re gonna make me cry.” 

Three chuckled. Eight elbowed her.

Marina, too, could feel her eyes growing watery. She felt her legs push her forward as she pulled Eight into a tight hug. A second later, she felt Pearl throw herself onto them too.

“Get in here, Three!” Pearl said.

“No.”

Eight shot her girlfriend a look. “Come on!”

“No,” Three repeated.

“It’s fine,” Marina said. “Who needs her?”

“I do,” Eight mumbled.

The three of them rocked ever so slightly as Three half-heartedly latched onto the side of the group hug. “You’re so goddamn cheesy.”

Finally, they broke apart, Marina wiping at her eyes. “Alright. Well. You two have fun in Three’s shitty, single-bedroom apartment, I guess.”

Eight giggled. “Oh, we will.”

Three rolled her eyes and smiled.

“I still don’t know why you won’t let us buy you a second bed,” Marina said.

“It’d just get in the way,” Three said.

Eight giggled again.

Marina looked confusedly at Pearl. “Am I missing something?”

Pearl narrowed her eyes at the two younger girls, and then after a second, apparently came to some sort of grand realization, as she went, “OOOOOOH! Nice!”

This just made Marina more confused. Eight exchanged one last goodbye with them before she and Three left Pearl and Marina’s house, and the door shut with a decisive thunk. Marina let out one last sigh and smiled.

“They grow up so fast.” After a second, she turned to Pearl. “So, uh, what was that whole ‘oooh, nice’ thing about?”

Pearl laughed. “They’re totally fucking.”

Marina walked over to the window and pulled back to blinds, and, oh, yep, they were making out in Three’s car. Huh. 

Well, good for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I start this fic a week earlier than I had planned so that this chapter would release during pride month? Yes, yes I did. Happy pride, everyone!
> 
> I'm gonna take a break next week, but if things go well the next work should be out on the eleventh. I _may_ have to push it back an extra week, fair warning, but hopefully I'll be able to stay on track. It'll be a bit of a gear shift, but I'm really excited for it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks everyone for reading!
> 
> Hey, if you want to ask me any questions about this fic and its extended universe, or just want to look at the cute agent 24 art I reblog, come visit my newly-formed tumblr! You'll find me at [operation-24.tumblr.com](https://operation-24.tumblr.com).


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